


That was either the painkillers or the blood loss

by Gaelic_Bread



Category: Percy Jackson and the Olympians & Related Fandoms - All Media Types, Percy Jackson and the Olympians - Rick Riordan
Genre: Bisexual Percy Jackson, Coming Out, Feelings Are Confusing, Homophobia, Hurt Percy, Hurt/Comfort, Kinda, M/M, basically percy makes out with some boy from school and homophobes see, hes also super in love with annabeth, i wish we saw more of the percy & beckendorf friendship, set inbetween tBotL and tLO
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2020-09-02
Updated: 2020-09-07
Packaged: 2021-03-07 01:59:47
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 3
Words: 4,091
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/26259049
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Gaelic_Bread/pseuds/Gaelic_Bread
Summary: Okay, he loves Annabeth with all his heart, but he's also pretty sure he's going to die in August, and doesn't want to start a relationship just to die on her. So why not make out with some lacrosse player?aka Percy comes out to Silena and Beck, but some stuff happened before that
Relationships: Annabeth Chase/Percy Jackson, Charles Beckendorf & Percy Jackson, Silena Beauregard & Percy Jackson, Silena Beauregard/Charles Beckendorf
Comments: 7
Kudos: 150





	1. why not?

**Author's Note:**

> TW: r slur  
> TW: homophobia, and homophobic based slurs  
> TW: blood, violence, injury  
> (All in the second chapter)
> 
> I got one (1) idea, and whoops, two more happened.

Gym was his last class of the day, and he was the only one that utilized the showers of the boys locker room afterwards, which meant he was often left alone. Taking advantage of the showers was something that started young, when he was trying to keep the water bill down, and even though money wasn’t that tight anymore, it was habit. And he didn’t mind being the last one, it meant less people saw his scars while he was changing. It helped his nerves to be alone then, less possibility of someone, or something, startling him, attacking him. He thinks back to his conversation with Nico not even six months ago. _Would the curse make it better? Would I be less afraid? Or would it make everything worse, knowing one good shot_ _could kill me?_

He pushes those thoughts away. It’s harder to be positive when he’s alone. _Positive, something positive… blue cookies, a free weekend with_ _skateboarding, Annabeth… but we’re not talking._ Annabeth, that was a whole other thing. He liked her, a lot, but there was a part of him that wasn’t sure she liked him back. He wasn’t sure she’d like him if she knew. _Oh shut up, she won’t care that you’re bi_. But she could. And he was still confused. Granted, he’d kissed more boys than he’d kissed girls, but that didn’t make things less confusing.

He couldn’t help but think that it should be simple. If you like your gender and another, you’re bi. If you like people regardless of gender, you’re pan. And, yeah, that reasoning is what brought him to think he was bi, and he _is_. But feelings are tricky. He wants to be with Annabeth, be everything she needs, because she’s already everything he needs. He wants to hold her hand and make her breakfast and hug her after nightmares. There is so much more for her. With other people it had been different. Teddy liked him, and he liked Teddy, so they kissed. Charlie liked him, and he liked Charlie, so they kissed. When he’d learned that Beck’s first name was also Charlie he’d been surprised, in the way when you imagine a name for a certain person, and then you meet another person and have to reevaluate. Beck and Charlie were so different. There was nothing extra to his friendship with Beckendorf. It was plain and simple, and that’s why it was one of his strongest, besides Grover and Annabeth. But like he said, Annabeth was more. _I’ve really come_ _full circle with this thought process, haven’t I?_

The door to the locker room squeaks as it shuts behind a boy. Percy spins around, holding his towel in his hands. He searches his mind for the boy’s name, _Jacob, that’s it, a sophomore, on_ _the lacrosse team_. Jacob is taller than Percy by at least an inch, his brown skin is slightly lighter than Percy’s, his hair is black and cropped close to his head, but clearly curly. And he’s shirtless, making direct and burning eye contact with Percy. He drops his duffle bag to the ground with a thud and takes a step towards Percy, who quirks his eyebrow, confused by the expectant gaze of this upperclassman. Jacob raises his eyebrows in an almost suggestive manor, and nods his head towards Percy. And _what the hell,_ Percy’s confused by his feelings, and Annabeth, and he’s probably going to die in August, _so why not make out with a random boy in the school locker room, no one_ _else_ _is there._

Percy bites his lip and smiles crookedly. That’s enough to get Jacob moving. He meets Percy in the middle with a quick stride and captures him in a kiss. Percy drops his towel to the floor,moving his right arm up to the taller boy’s shoulder, gripping it slightly. He kisses back, but before it gets too soft he makes a decision. With a quick push of his deceptively strong arm he’s got Jacob pinned against a row of lockers with a soft slam. The kiss intensifies. Percy brings his other hand up to the back of Jacob’s neck. Their lips break away a moment for air and then they’re back at it. Jacob’s hands reach down and under the hem of Percy’s shirt, making their way back up, tracing along his spine. Percy hums a little, enjoying the sensation.

He wants to kiss Annabeth like this someday. It would be even better because he actually likes her. Jacob traces his hands back down Percy’s back, settling on his hips, and pushes his head more firmly to Percy, away from the lockers. He sticks his thumbs into the waistline of Percy’s athletic shorts, kissing harder, and slowly starts to lower his shorts. _No, I don’t want this, not with_ _a stranger, not with him._ Percy jerks away, pushing off against the lockers, sending himself back a few feet. 

“I- I don’t want to.” Percy says with a sigh, he runs one of his hands down the side of his face. Jacob stares at him blankly for a moment.

“Oh, sorry. I just thought-”

“It’s alright, my fault.” Percy replies.

“O-kay, I guess I’ll just go then.” Jacob picks his duffle bag up off the ground and leaves the locker room, the door squeaks again, and Percy lets out a groan.

_Stupid, stupid, stupid. You like Annabeth, you shouldn’t do_ _anything with anyone else._ He sits on a bench, putting his head in his hands, letting him bully himself. It’s not like he has anything better to do. His body is shaking, and after a few minutes he realizes he’s crying. _Why am I crying over_ _this,_ _it’s so stupid? I made out with a_ _nice guy and am now crying because I’m in love_ _with my best friend. Stupid, stupid, stupid. And dumb, don’t_ _forget that._ Another squeak makes him look at the door, but he can’t see anyone else. He chokes a bit, trying to get his breathing back to normal, and then stands up, wiping his face a final time, before throwing on his jacket and grabbing his bags. Maybe he can get home and see his parents before they go out on their date.

It’s cold outside but he is too preoccupied to care. He dodges piles of snow as he crosses busy streets, now only a couple blocks away from his apartment. His mind is swimming with thoughts, about Annabeth, about boys, about next summer, about death, and the Styx. He mentally reprimands himself for thinking about that, a topic his mind often slips into. He and Annabeth had gone on a mission together last weekend. Not much talking was done, but they had worked together as a team, like always. He wanted to talk to her so badly. _There are so many_ _things to say_ _before August, before I die._ _You won’t die. You will. Stop it._ Something dark is in the corner of his eye, and he realizes that whatever it is, it’s been there for a while.


	2. Oh,

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Some homophobes and a fight. It doesn't help that they are also ableist and racist, cus Percy's a neuro-divergent, queer, poc, boi.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> homophobia has entered the chat.  
> also violence, blood, and injury.
> 
> Also this fight is probably really unrealistic, I tried though. It's a hard thing to write Percy getting beaten up since he's pretty powerful even before tlo.
> 
> Sally might be ooc but writing is hard.
> 
> TW for the r slur, f slur, and q slur if you consider that a slur. Other insults too.

Something dark is in the corner of his eye, and he realizes that whatever it is, it’s been there for a while. He glances behind him to find a mean looking group of three or so boys he recognizes from Goode. He picks up the pace, _No need for unnecessary fights, especially not with other_ _students._ But more boys are walking towards him, _that’s odd, almost like- a plan._ He spins on his heel ninety degrees, ready to dash across the lanes. Except there is someone already doing that, coming to him. _Shit, what do they want?_ He turns back around, spotting an alley shortly ahead, and keeps moving. Belatedly he realizes that it’s a dead end, but it’s too late to do anything about that, because there are ten kids starting for him. He wishes momentarily that he had the powers of a siren, and could get them all to turn around. _Diplomacy is a good idea_ , he realizes, _maybe I_ _can do something for them and they’ll leave._

He re-secures his bags on his shoulders, and then turns to face the group, holding his hands in a placating gesture, and letting a small crooked smile grace his lips.

“Is there something I can do for you all?” He asks, as his brain goes into overdrive evaluating everything in sight.

 _The boy in the center is burlier,_ _probably the leader. The ones in back are the scrawniest, several have hands in their pockets, twitching slightly, most likely fingering small_ _weapons._ _Hopefully not guns. Their stances aren’t the most secure, they don’t have much experience with people who know how to fight back._ _They’ll probably_ _try to surround me, which will be easy, but insecure footing means I can get down and knock them over. Most likely they have_ _knives of somesort, so I have to watch out for that. The biggest threat is that there are so many more of them._

“What could a fairy do for us?” The leader shoots back, and _oh, fuck._

Several of his cronies snicker. There isn’t much he can do to keep a fight from happening except run, and he can’t do that.

They keep advancing. Percy drops his bags, accepting the situation. 

“I mean, we knew you were retarded, but this.” He draws the s out. Percy clenches his fists. _These are mortals, no sword, and no powers,_ _remember?_

“Imagine having a stupid pansy as a son, you’re parents must be so disappointed.” He pauses for a second “Or maybe, they made you like this. Are they also homos? I would resent my parents for that. Letting me exist…” He takes another step forward.

“Yeah I have no idea why they’d let you exist.” Percy knows he shouldn’t have said that, all it’s going to do is make him angrier, but when was the last time Percy used his filter during a fight? _Or ever._ _Getting him angry isn’t smart, especially considering I’m going to have_ _to hold myself_ _back_ _so they don’t get seriously injured._

The leader growls and withdraws a knife.

“You’re a smartass for how dumb you are.” He motions for another person to step forward. They are also holding a knife, and try to stab Percy, but he sidesteps, twists their wrist, and the knife clatters to the ground.

“You’re gonna regret that pervert.” The rest start attacking, encircling him.

One gets under his guard, his jacket sleeve tears and he can see blood soaking into it. Percy drops to the ground and swings his leg around, knocking three over. He scrounges the ground quickly for a discarded pocket knife and hops back up. The other six are all trying to stab him now, and he switches from avoiding hits to actually defending. They shout insults the whole time. “Illiterate.” “Queer pansy.” “Stupid.” “Homo.” “Faggot.” There’s an opening on the thigh of the quickest attacker, the one that got Percy’s arm, so he weaves between two others and slashes, deep enough to make someone unused to injury quit. The boy stumbles back as Percy tries to return to his position, but he has shifted too much and his footing is unstable, he’s pushed into a giant discarded window. Glass shards come through the rips in his jacket and cut into his legs. He bangs his head on the frame of the window, stunned, and takes too long getting back up. Another boy moves close, piercing his abdomen and leaving his knife inside. _That’s enough._

The boy’s back up when Percy doesn’t stand immediately, watching and waiting. Stupid enough to think the kife in his abdomen will kill him immediately. Maybe a little in shock of that possibility. The leader doesn’t seem quite so sure, he leans over Percy, inspecting him. Percy reaches his good arm behind him and grabs a handful of snow. He holds it between himself and the leader like a weapon. It is. The boy laughs, and brings his knife back, ready to kebab the snowball and Percy’s hand. When the knife is halfway through the snow, the fluffy white ball turns to clear hard ice. The knife is stuck. The offender and his gang back away, confused. Percy takes a shaky breath, using the wall as support, clutching the knife inside him with one hand. He raises the other, all the snow in the back of the alley turns into a sheet of water behind him, with a swift movement the water turns to small flying spikes. He’s controlling them so they don’t actually touch the kids, but they still run away screaming.

He collapses in the glass still conscious, looking at the exit to the alley. Pedestrians are walking quickly by, he’s too far in for them to see him. Groaning, he digs his free hand onto the pavement, and slowly drags himself to the only remaining pile of snow in the alley. Glass imbeds itself in his palm and legs. He lies next to the snow, lifting his head to look at his stomach wound. With a quick prayer to Apollo he pulls the knife out and stuffs snow into the hole. Quite quickly it turns pink, but he keeps packing more on top. The sky is turning dark around him, and it’s a struggle to stay awake. _I just need to get this one part better and then I can make it home._ It takes two hours before he's decided that this is as good as he’s going to get without nectar and ambrosia. _My head hurts, but it’s probably just from the bruise the window frame gave me._ With some difficulty, he stands and fetches his bags, starting on the walk home, _this is going to take a while._

After forty minutes he’s back at his apartment. Surprisingly, or rather, unsurprisingly for New York, no one noticed a battered, bruised, and bleeding, fifteen year old limping down the street. No one is home, but he expected that. That means no help, but at least Sally and Paul don't have to see him like this. First stop: the kitchen cupboard where nectar and ambrosia is stored. He tears through all of the cabinets looking to no avail. After ten minutes a scrap of paper ends up in his hand, reading ‘get more nectar and ambrosia from Chiron.’

“Fuck.” 

In the bathroom he balances the extra-competent first aid kit on his knee, cataloging his injuries with a detached eye. The stab wound is what he should treat first. It no longer seems to be bleeding but he kept pressure on it while he took suturing supplies out of the kit. After cleaning and disinfecting it he began the process of sewing, gritting his teeth. When he finished he applied a patch of gauze and moved on to his other injuries. The gash on his arm needed stitches, and the time consuming process of removing every little piece of glass from his skin before he dared using water.

All together it took an hour, and by the end his hands were tingling faintly. His headache had lessened since he applied ice, but decided to stay awake for a while longer, just in case. Half an hour later, sitting on the couch and staring at the wall he is overtaken by a splitting headache. His head pounded yet no black spots danced in front of his eyes like a migraine. The door clicked softly. 

“Percy! You’re awake!” Sally’s voice rang over the apartment.

“We brought you leftovers.” Paul said, holding up a paper bag.

Percy smiled through his discomfort. _Well, I am kinda hungry, and I’m patched up_ _enough where they shouldn’t be too concerned._ He could hear his mom putting away her things and puttering around the kitchen while she and Paul absently told Percy about the movie they saw. He zipped up his sweatshirt, hiding most of his wounds, and started towards the kitchen island.

It was like when he was five, when he and his mom went to Central Park to escape Gabe, and she taught him to roll down hills, the sky and earth spinning and blending together. Tumbling on the ground. He grabbed the edge of the table, righting himself, Paul was holding his other arm, by his side.

“Woah there.”

“What?” Percy was confused, _wasn’t that what people said to horses?_ The lights of the apartment came back into focus.

“Percy? Are you alright?”

“Hmm?” It was hard to focus, her voice sounded far away.

“Percy?”

“Yeah, I’m here, I’m good.” The muffledness subsided, he gave her a lopsided smile but she still looked unsure.

“You’re hurt aren’t you?”

“Only a little.” He holds his thumb and index finger a centimeter apart.

“We’re out of nectar and ambrosia, you should go to camp just in case.”

“I’ll be fine. I just haven’t eaten in a while.” Paul releases his gentle grip on Percy’s arm, and Percy continues on his way to the kitchen, only to keel over again.

“We’re driving you to camp. You should call ahead.”

“Fine.” 

_There’s still another hour before curfew right? I hope he’s up._

“Oh Iris, goddess of the Rainbow, please accept my offering.” Tossing in the drachma he added “Charles Beckendorf, Camp Half Blood.”

“Hey Perce, whats up?” Charlie was working in the forges, Percy could see him hammering away at something.

“I’m coming to camp.”

“What? I thought your next mission was in a week. What happened?”

“I may have gotten a tiny bit injured.” Sally peered over his shoulder.

“Hi honey,” She said to Beckendorf, then turned to Percy “it’s more than a little, you can barely walk.” Percy scratched the back of his neck

sheepishly.

“Anyways, I was just calling to give a heads up, and to ask if you can have one of the Apollo campers save me a bed in the infirmary.”

“Yeah, of course, actually-” He moves his head out of frame and calls out “Solace! Get yourself over here.”

“What do you need?” The blond haired boy bounces into the projection, Beckendorf nods his head over to Percy and the projection.

“Percy’s gonna need a bed in the infirmary.”

“I think.”

“Really, you think? Your mom said you can’t walk.”

“I didn’t injure my legs.” He adds quietly “ _T_ _hat badly._ ”

“Wait then why can’t you walk?”

“I keep falling over, I think it’s a concussion. I have a headache.” Will bites his lip, mulling over what Percy said.

“Okay, hopefully that’s all it is.” He says nodding. “Don’t sleep and don’t eat. I’ll go set up a bed.” Will turns and leaves as Percy yells a “Thanks!”

“We’ll be waiting,” Beckendorf adds “it’s about an hour drive right?”

“Yeah.”

“See you then.” The message disappears.

  
  


**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Okay, one more part left, probably will be up by tuesday, but I have school now.  
> I'm not good at writing fights of any kind.


	3. aw, shit

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> it might be a little more than a concussion

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> there's like one swear word in this. I wish we got to see more of the Percy & Beckendorf and Percy & Silena dynamics.

When the Prius pulls over on the side of the road, Percy is feeling significantly worse. Even getting out of the car leaves him short of breath, and standing, waiting while Beckendorf runs down the hill to greet them, he feels like he’s about to fall over. Beck makes a quick exchange with Sally and Paul and then slips Percy’s good arm over his shoulders as they start up the hill.

“Good to see you, Beck.”

“You don’t look good to see me.”

“Is that because I’m covered in bandages”

“Yeah, a bit.” Beckendorf chuckles. _My ears feel weird._

“Percy, what are you doing?” Beckendorf asks as Percy brings his free hand up to his ear. He squints at it in the moonlight.

“Thas not good.” Blood glints on his finger.

“What’s not good?” Beck asks, voice becoming more urgent.

“I- I think my ears are bleeding.”

“Okay, just- just stay awake alright, we’re almost to the infirmary.” He picks up the pace, going as fast as he can while carrying Percy, they tear up the steps as he starts shouting.

“Will! Will!” The infirmary is empty and Beckendorf sets Percy on the closest bed as Will runs over.

“Hi Will.” Percy is weirdly calm

“You said you thought you had a concussion, can you tell me what symptoms you had?”

“Uhhh, sure. Let’s see, I was thrown into a window, that's when I hit my head, and then… later I had a really… bad headache, and standing made me dizzy.”

“Okay, anything else out of the usual?” Will asks as he shines a light in Percy’s eyes.

“I guess my hands were kinda tingly after I sewed myself shut. And breathing is hard.” Will’s mouth forms a line.

“I'm going to take your sweatshirt off. Did something else happen after the window?” Will starts pulling the zipper down.

“Yeah, I was stabbed.” Will’s eyes widen looking at the bruising on the sides of Percy’s abdomen.

“Prep for surgery! A laparotomy!” Will calls over his shoulder.

“Wait, what?” Beckendorf asks from the other side of the bed.

“He’s got internal bleeding, I need to stop it. Keep him talking while I clean up. Austin will come over to prepare him.” He turned hurriedly and ran into another room.

When Percy woke up, if you could really call it waking up since he didn’t remember falling asleep, everything was bright. He could sense the overhead lighting of the infirmary and golden sunlight streaming in from a window, uncomfortable even with his eyes closed. Gold like Annabeth’s hair, he could see it illuminated by all the light, wisps around her face, escaping her ponytail.

“Annabeth?”

“Sorry buddy, it’s just us.” That voice wasn’t Annabeth’s, it was deep. Beckendorf. Beckendorf was who brought him into the infirmary. He squints his eyes open. Sitting by his bed, holding hands, are Silena and Beckendorf. She leans forward with a small smile.

“You really love her don’t you?” He’s pushed himself up to sitting, his stomach protests but he ignores it. He runs a hand down the side of his face and lets out a bitter chuckle.

“Apparently not enough to keep myself from making out with a boy and then getting beat up for it.” His thoughts are fluid like knotted string, weaving in and out, incoherent. He registers their eyes widening, posture changing, expressions shifting. Beckendorf looks at Silena with an expression that says _that was either the painkillers or the blood loss._

“Aw, shit.” Percy says eloquently. He’s so tired, even though he’s spent the last twelve hours supposedly sleeping. He gestures with his hand at nothing in particular, trying to get the words ordered in his mind. “I’m bi.” They don’t say anything, staring at him, though with softened expressions, for eons. It was probably only a second, not long enough for Percy to continue with his rambling, but time doesn’t make sense right now so he continues. “I love her so much. She’s always here, whenever I wake up, she’s been there.” He points vaguely to the chair Beckendorf is sitting in. “I don’t know why I expected her to be there though, it’s not like we’re exactly…” He trails off for a second, and he can’t tell if he’s actually searching for another word or if he just loses himself in his own thoughts again. He can feel his hands swirling in the air, “talking, at the moment.”

“She’d be here if she could.” Beck says it softly but with determination. Percy can feel his eyes itch. _Would she really though? She hates you, she_ _refuses to_ _talk to you, she doesn’t message you except for missions._ He can feel tears slipping down his cheeks, and he hates himself for it. _It._ _Doesn’t. Matter. You’re_ _going to die in August, none of this matters._ But it does. Even though he’s going to die, even though he will never get to be in a relationship with her. It matters. Because she’s his best friend. Even without all the other feelings. And so much has happened to him since the labyrinth, and she has no idea. 

Warm arms encircle him. Two pairs. One strong, the other slender, but both tight and warm. He can feel himself melting, his eyelids fluttering. When he stops crying the arms leave reluctantly. At some point he must’ve shifted back to lying down. Silena reaches towards him, brushing a strand of damp hair out of his face.

“Charlie’s right.” She glances towards him, and the look they share is everything Percy wants with Annabeth. Everything he wants, but will die

before. “But for now, we’ll be here. Go back to sleep, and we will be here when you wake up.” He lets his eyes slip closed and nods weakly.

  
  


**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I have an idea for a follow up thing that would take place a week or so after this involving a game of truth or dare. So, we'll see if I actually end up doing that. Sorry that this chapter was shorter, I should've spaced things differently. :)

**Author's Note:**

> I have the need to apologize, just incase you didn't like it, so, sorry.
> 
> Sequel fic is up: We Don’t Talk


End file.
